2.0 The Chronicles of Us - Shame & Blame

Chapter thirty-four

•★ Tex ★•

I stare at my black phone screen. That was a normal conversation. Wasn't it? I can't help but think that she was holding something back. There was a sadness in her voice that I can't quite place. It's probably just because she misses me. I sure as hell miss her. This long distance thing sucks balls ... and not in a fun way.

I shrug and shove my phone back in my pocket. Nothing I can do about it now. I head back to the party that I never wanted to be at in the first place. I mean, it's nice and all, but Roy wants me to network with people. "You never know where opportunities lie," he said when I complained. He's not wrong, but isn't that his job? Can't I just play the role of misunderstood musician?

Apparently, not tonight. He's drunk and completely embarrassing himself to impress my shrink. Just when I sit down on the armrest of his expensive and uncomfortable couch, Chuck Berry's 'You Can Never Tell' begins to play. Roy takes off his shoes and twists his leg. I know he's trying to resemble John Travolta from the movie, but to me he has more in common with a newborn giraffe. Lucky for him, Dr. Martinez is tipsy as well. I caught the slight slur in her voice when she called for me when I was on the phone with Ellie. She joins Roy, taking off her own shoes before shaking her hips and moving her arms in a weird, wavy way.

The fuck kinda party is this? If my shrink is into this, she needs some professional help herself. Okay, I'm being a downer. They are obviously having fun together. If Ellie was here, she would've tried to make me dance with her. I don't think I would've done that, but who knows? She would've been the center of attention anyway. Her smile would've pulled every pair of eyes in her direction.

Ah shit. Now I really regret not inviting her to the party. True, it was only meant to be a birthday dinner for Roy, but when the nomination became known, he arranged a huge party and invited all his music connections. Honestly, I'm not that blown away by all the stars that parade around. Though, meeting Slash was pretty cool.

Anyway, I didn't ask Ellie to come because I didn't want to get disappointed with another turndown. She always seems to be working. Is that even true? I'm kinda waiting for her to offer to come to L.A. to spend time with me.

Petty?

Maybe.

Probably.

It's not all on her. I've been busy too. Recording songs, altering songs, recording them again, only to change them once more. The album release is coming up, which means I'm not splitting hairs, I'm quartering them. What can I say? I'm not gonna apologize for being critical. Mediocrity is simply not good enough.

Anyway, all that time in the studio prevents me from seeing Ellie and she's not putting in any effort to change that. How the hell are we gonna make this relationship work if we can't even find the time to actually be together?

I don't like the direction my mind is taking me, so I focus on the horror show in front of me. Doc grabs Roy's weird bolo tie and pulls him in for a kiss.

Slightly annoyed with the fact that everyone is having fun with their dates, I walk up to Joey and sit down next to him. He's my comrade on this lonely night. Probably not for long, though. Earlier, I saw him talk to one of the twins that signed with the label a month ago. I'm pretty sure Axel is already necking the other one in the kitchen.

Joey offers me a beer. "Stoked about the award?"

One beer should be fine, but I'm not in the mood, so I decline. "Yeah, I suppose."

He sips his IPA and nods. "Where's Ellie? I thought she'd be here."

Yup, I'm an idiot. "I didn't exactly invite her."

"Why not? She would've liked this party. There's a table with golden cake-pops." He nods backwards to said table. The same one I had already spotted.

"Yeah, I know." I sigh deeply and hang my head. "It's just that she doesn't seem too eager to come here to spend time with me. Thought I'd save her the trouble of coming up with yet another excuse."

I almost fall outta my chair when Joey punches me on the shoulder. "What's wrong with you? You're such a little bitch sometimes."

My fingers rub the sore spot. "No, I'm not."

He snickers, amused by my scowl. "Yes, you are. Is that why you've been so moody lately?"

"Maybe." I pout, possibly like a little bitch. "I mean, why doesn't she just get on a plane to come stay the weekend with me? She can't expect me to drive up to San Francisco all the time."

He shrugs, clearly not impressed by my concerns. "I don't know, man. Maybe she can't afford the ticket. Just fucking ask her."

Didn't I offer to pay? Now that I think about it, I don't believe I have. "I suppose you're right. I'll ask her tomorrow." Ignoring his eye-roll and head-shake, something pops up. "Did you read the interview?"

"Yes, didn't you?"

"No, I was there. I know what I said."

"Well," he begins, sounding hesitant, "there's some stuff in there you didn't say. About rehab and Ellie."

My brows snap together, forming an angry frown. "The fuck? Why didn't you tell me?"

Joey pulls up his shoulders and gives me an oops-look. "I thought you read it already."

I quickly reach for the stack of magazines on the side table. I'm sure Roy has a copy somewhere. Music magazine, health magazine, boating magazine ... boating magazine? The fuck's that about? Never mind. Once I find the right one, I head to the hallway for some privacy.

I flip through the bullshit filled pages until my own face stares back at me. Not a bad picture. It shows my signature scowl. At least that's authentic. I nod approvingly and then read the article, skipping through the random nonsense. No lies so far.

Ah, the question about love. I definitely said some nice things then. Nothing. Did they really leave out all my poetic rambling? Fuckers.

When I reach the last paragraph, I frown. The fuck is this? Sources revealed I was in rehab? I confirmed the incident happened in the aftermath of a fight with my ex-girlfriend? A taste for drama and drugs?

I didn't confirm shit. I specifically told that interviewer to mind her own damn business. I know this because I remember Roy giving me the play-nice warning look. That scheming bitch snooped around and found someone willing to talk. Must've been someone from group therapy. Fucking Zoro or maybe Steve. I definitely pissed them both off more than once. Bunch of motherfuckers.

No wonder Ellie sounded sad. They twisted my words and left out all the nice stuff I said. The interviewer shed a, mildly put, unfavorable light on her. Shitty fucking magazine. How dare they profit from my misery?

I throw the magazine aside and fish out my phone to call Ellie. Hmm. It's not that late, but she said she was going to bed. I don't wanna wake her. I got a feeling she hasn't been completely honest about the amount of hours she sleeps. I'll just call her first thing in the morning. It's a trash-magazine anyway. She knows that. Otherwise she would've asked me to clarify. No need for panic or haste decisions.

Don't fucking overthink it. 

♬♬♬♬

A/N

Sorry guys, I'm gonna leave you in suspense for a little while 🥰

X Dionne